The Years After the Great Exile
by Druid Cerion
Summary: This story follows a number of people, a geltor(half-giant), a mystic, a mystic's apprentice, and an assassin to a lesser degree. Lot's of blood and impossible anatomical sequences. Reminiscent of Salvatore, but shorter chapters.
1. Default Chapter

Dravidan sauntered out of his small hut, and into the designated area for slaves and gladiators. He had lived in this cursed place since the day he was born; his mother having died from the blood loss of giving birth, and his father having never truly been known to him. Word was, that his father had resisted all attempts to be captured for the past twenty years. As the reputation grew of this Daundero Ghengar on the outside world, he rallied his fellow Geltor to his cause, and currently, they were out in some encampments in the hills.  
  
To the youth though, that was all a dream, a legend, a myth. His captors seemed to agree with him in that aspect. If he ever ventured to ask questions of the outside world, and more specifically the legendary Daundero; they would flog him for hours upon hours.  
  
Dravidan, like his father, was a 'Geltor', as the humans called him; translated to "spawn of giants", in the language commonly used nearly five centuries before. The only thing that he knew about his race, was what the other slaves told him, which was surprisingly accurate, despite the two millennia that had passed since the time of the great exile.  
  
The great exile was the banishment of the worshippers of the god of war; Redaign, from the main human race, who worshipped the goddess of the harvest; Kolynia. The separation drove the war worshippers deep into the Keldon Range. The true reason for the exile hadn't really been recorded, but according to the shamans that shared slavery with Dravidan, it was all because of the human's misguided belief that the disciples of Redaign would bring about a massive war to their civilization.  
  
After they fled to the Keldon Range, they became aware of the harsh conditions of the land. They began to die by the score, until creatures came down from the hills, massive creatures, with skin like stone. They were offered shelter from the elements by the giants, who too, were fellow worshippers of the war god, Redaign.  
  
As history records it, the race of giants and humans merged, eventually becoming the Geltor, the half-giants. 1500 years passed, and the Geltor wished to reunite with their human kin who had banished them. Feelings of hostility long since expired. The humans saw a threat though in the appearance of these new and powerful creatures. There was also a potential that was seen in them though. So the race of man allied with the Geltor, together, they conquered the other offspring of the human race, who unlike the half-giants, still felt a deep hostility towards the worshippers of Kolynia.  
  
Any of the scripts after that were lost, according to the humans, the Geltor, in their 'warlike nature' finally turned on their allies, or 'slavers' as some told it. That was two score years ago. In the last twenty, they had managed to capture the majority of the race and put them into slavery; Dravidan included.  
  
So there they were, those who were once considered the greatest warriors in the land, reduced to slaves and gladiators, at the hands of their once allies.  
  
Dravidan shook the thoughts from his head, as a taskmaster's whip met his back, "Geltor, Lord Brevin has called for you to participate in the gladiatorial games this evening. You will arrive promptly when the bells toll, refusal to arrive will result in your prompt execution; as decreed by Lord Brevin."  
  
The Geltor turned around, finding the small form flicking his whip around as if to look imposing. Brandishing his teeth wickedly, Dravidan grinned, "I'll be there human, and you'd best hope that you won't be. Your flesh looks particularly appetizing this evening."  
  
The man's face paled at the half-giant's threat, realizing the implications, he hastily retreated back to the palisade walls of the camp, where the rest of the guards played at their games.  
  
Watching the man flee, the Geltor started away, wondering what weapons and what foe he would be forced to fight with this night. 


	2. Chapter 2

Dravidan found out what he was to be pitted against all too soon. As he entered the building that housed the arena, more than a few guards whispered behind his back of his opponent, a great marsh lizard that was found but mere days ago, just south of this encampment. By their words, it sounded as if it were maybe six feet tall tops, and perhaps eight feet long. Confident that he could handle such a beast, he went for the arena armory. Upon reaching the place, the armorers outfitted him with an assortment of odd, and to a degree, primitive weapons. Upon his back, he was made to wear the furs of a bear, to add to his monstrous appearance he presumed. The weapons he would wield into this conflict were odd, he thought, as he looked down at the Geltor scimitar, a weapon that was considered illegal to the humans. He shrugged it off though...this, too, was to add to his beastlike appearance he knew.  
Minutes later, he was ushered to one of the competitor's appointed gates. Across from his gate was that of what he could only assume to be hydralike in appearance, hoping it was in fact; killing something small like a komodo dragon was hard as hell, even for a Geltor. Without any further warning, both of the gates came up, Dravidan charging forward to assault the creature and get it over with as soon as possible. What he found facing him though, was a massive creature; it was indeed hydralike in appearance, with one head though. The downside to this was that the single head reached 15 feet high. It trumped his substantial height by an incredible six feet! It's shoulders ended at about nine feet high, his own height! The Geltor cast a wicked glance up to the Lord Brevin who had called this match into order. No doubt he had gotten in trouble somehow; the camp council seemed to have come to the agreement that this certain Geltor was causing them more trouble than he was worth.  
The thought made Dravidan's blood boil; he would show them...and then he would ...he let the thought linger in his mind, enjoying the possibilities. As he thought of the destruction that he would rain down upon the humans, his eyes took on a distinct glow of red, and his vision blurred with the reddish haze. In a fraction of a moment, the Geltor Scimitar whipped around as he charged forward; leaving a line of red down the drake's leg. The creature seemed confused as if it had never felt pain before, and indeed, it was hard to believe that anything could cause it. All that the slash was to the hydra though, was simply a scratch, and that seemed literally accurate. The attack had barely punctured it's skin. Dravidan looked down in disbelief at his weapon, noticing instantly what was wrong, the usually keen edge of the Geltor Scimitar was worn down, as if it had been on a turning whetstone for hours.  
The Geltor cursed again in the native tongue of his people, unable to believe his misfortune, even more so when a mighty whip of the hydra's tail sent him sprawling on the ground a dozen feet away. Shaking his head as he regained his feet to clear his cluttered mind of the daze, he saw the drake approaching steadily, though surely it seemed like it was probably one of the fastest speeds that such a giant beast could achieve.  
Dravidan held his ground, waiting for the other to close on him, before leaping aside, to climb atop the creature's scaly back as it passed; burying his dull blade deep into the beast's hide before being thrown off with a swat of it's surprisingly powerful neck. The enraged drake then charged at him, rage reflected in it's cold eyes, an emotion not shared by most of the lesser species. Looking into it's eyes as it charged, he saw a flicker of intelligence hidden there, it was in the same position he was he realized. He corrected himself instantly, no not the same position, the other didn't have a 2000 pound hydra bearing down on him. The moment of empathy was shattered as he came to the harsh realization that he had no means to defend himself; his Geltor Scimitar having been buried in it's back.  
Noting the seeming hopelessness of the situation, Dravidan let his thoughts wander to what this creature was to the humans. To the humans, the creature was to serve as his executioner, and that is how he took it. This was his executioner and to save himself, he would have to break any barriers of humanity that would prevent him from doing the necessary. So, he took those thoughts of those he cared about, and cleared them from his mind. He shed those powerful barriers in his mind, and realized what he had to do. When the beast came around the next time, a wicked howl emitted from the Geltor's throat, as he jumped upon the creature, clinging to it's neck in the attempt to strangle it slowly. What he found out during the attack, was that it's neck was protected with thick layers of muscle surrounding it's long throat. There was no way, that he, despite the massive strength granted to him by his heritage, could strangle the creature in this manner. Instantly changing his tact, the pelt-covered warrior bit at the neck, tearing skin free and leaving the insides vulnerable. Reaching the hand not used to cling onto the beast to the wound, he grabbed at the muscle tissue, tearing it free; the drake trying to fling him from it's wounded neck. He had his hold though, and not the cold hands of death could bring him from it if they so tried. With the same hand that tore free the muscles, he reached in once more, grabbing at it's throat and bending the tube towards him, promptly clamping it shut with his teeth.  
The Lord Brevin and his company looked on in shock, the blond man himself noted the carnage, with some degree of admiration for the half- giant, but even more hate for killing his hydra; he had intended on using that on a couple more Geltor before much longer. Still, he had earned the right to live one more day he supposed. Until the next time that he had found some powerful creature to pit him against that is.  
Dravidan didn't hide his hateful glare directed towards the people on the balcony, and upon drawing the sword from the corpse of the lizard, the Geltor prepared himself to throw it up at those on the balcony above, specifically Brevin. A sight out of the corner of his eye gave him pause though, half a dozen crossbowmen from their vantage points above the arena, made ready their shots in the case that the Geltor had anything dangerous in mind. With a last growl of helplessness, the half-giant fell to one knee, presenting his sword horizontally towards the Lord, as was customary to those who had won an arena fight. Moments later he came to his feet and walked back towards his gate, where he disarmed himself, and was shoved outside the arena building shortly afterwards to tend to his own business.  
As the half-giant departed the arena though, a watchful eye followed him from the balcony, an eye that flickered with interest and intrigue. An eye that realized that this was more than some mere Geltor...The only remaining eye of the most powerful magic user in the kingdom, the Gem Knight; Regula Manset... 


	3. Chapter 3

Dravidan grumbled to himself as he was returning to his tent when a guard stopped him, "Geltor! Sir Manset of the Order of the Watchful Eye has summoned you! Failure to cooperate will result in your demise."  
The half-giant hissed back at the man, "Do you not get tired of summoning me again and again? Look at me! I'm covered in my own blood from the battle that I fought to amuse the fool of a lord, Brevin, and I am to come again? Better to face the demise that you threaten every time you come to me human, rather than to honor you and your lords with my presense," he finished, a dangerous glint in his eyes.  
The guard seemed to lose a bit of his thunder then, as Dravidan made his little speech. "Well, honestly sir, Manset really has no wish to quarrel with you, he sent me to get you so that he may congratulate you himself on an excellent fight." The guard tried to put on a casual demeanor to put the gladiator at ease, so that he could finish his job faster, but stopped when he received an awful scowl in return.  
"Bah! Fine, I'll go with you to meet with this Manset. It had better be worth my time, though, else you may find yourself on my menu, and I like my food rare," he said, and like usual, the threat of eating the guard silenced him so that he would merely do his assigned task.  
So, leading through the muddy encampment, they made their way across to the human populated side, and the guard brought him into the manor. Leading the way through a number of halls, he came to the guest quarters and stood by the door. "He said you were supposed to go in alone. I'll be out here though, so don't try anything."  
The half-giant snorted at the threat and pushed open the door, closing it right behind him to leave himself in complete darkness. As his eyes began to adjust to the darkness, a beam of light pierced through the black, to fall on him. As the source of the light approached, it became clear that it was somehow magically based, as it was emitting from a shard of diamond. From the same direction as the light, a somewhat gruff voice broke the silence, "Hmm, well built. Wounded, probably a broken rib. Overall good shape though, and an amazing control over his mind." The light from the diamond dimmed as the man spoke. The features of an elder man, with brown hair, grayed around the edges, a crooked smile, and perhaps most apparent of all, an eye patch over his left eye, came into view. "Impressive fight today Geltor, such an ability, to release one's primal instincts for a short time, and being able to close the door on those instincts in moments. A greater skill for a warrior I've never seen in my long years in this cursed land." A curious glint reflected in his eyes.  
Dravidan grunted, "What do you want old man? What have you summoned me for?" as usual getting straight to the point.  
The man shrugged in reply. "Well, in scientific terms, I just wish to do some restoring on the subject, the subject being you. You, at the moment are suffering from internal bleeding because one of your broken ribs has pierced the muscle tissue in the upper abdomen. If you are not treated soon, you will no doubt die a slow, agonizingly painful death," the odd man finished with a wry smirk.  
"Cheery fellow, aren't you?" the half-giant remarked. "Well, what do you plan on doing about it then? Get the surgeons, or let me die like that Brevin no doubt wanted me to?"  
Manset laughed, "No, of course not, I'm no taxidermist, so there's no way of preserving you if you're dead. Y'know, I'm not called the Gem Knight for nothing," he said, letting the diamond become almost blindingly bright for a moment, before withdrawing another stone from a pouch at his waist. "This, dear Geltor, is hematite, or as most know it, a flesh stone, as it can be used to mend flesh, or the opposite if you know what you're doing, like I do."  
  
Dravidan shook his head profusely, "No warlock, I will not fall victim to your evil magics, better to die the slow and painful death, as you so eloquently put it."  
The mage scowled, "that's not one of your choices, you can either be healed by my hand, and the magic, or..." he pulled forth a graphite rod, "you can have the pleasure of a couple lightning bolts burning you to a crisp. Both are magic, which one would you rather be 'tortured' with?"  
The half-giant groaned, "Work your evil spells with the flesh stone then, but know this; if I catch you without that pouch, I'll be working the torture on you, and I won't be nearly as gentle as I was with the drake.  
Manset wasn't even listening, as he was deep in the concentration of the hematite, leaving his corporeal form to become ethereal, and coming into Dravidan's body, shifting the position of his ribs, and controlling the damaged muscle tissue. The geltor winced in pain as his flesh was being rearranged, but he stopped immediately. To show pain to your enemies is a sign of weakness. Twenty slow minutes later, the seemingly bi-polar man's eyes popped open. "Your ribs are healed, the muscle area will be sore for a while, but it's better to go into a fight, with no broken bones, than you would have."  
The Geltor looked at the man inquisitively, "I would have what? What are you trying to say you antique?"  
The mage shrugged," didn't they tell you? You're in the next gladiatorial combat tomorrow. They of course didn't want you healed at all, so consider yourself lucky that I took pity on you. Such an amazing specimen should not be forced into this kind of life..."  
Dravidan roared, "Pity?! If anyone is to feel pity, it is I to you! You're an old man who rambles on about specimens, science, and rocks! I don't need your pity, and I don't want your pity. Just leave me be, and don't try to help me any more!" The half-giant stormed out of the room, going back to his tent to sleep off his almost overwhelming sense of anger. 


	4. Chapter 4

Dravidan awoke early the next morning to the sound of the encampment bells, tolling the notes that tell the Geltor that they must sacrifice their dignity for another day, to work for their human slavers. The gladiator was among the first to reach the small quarry that the palisades were built around, working himself beyond any expectations, to lighten the load of those others forced to do such menial labor. Despite his good intentions, though, he was in a rotten mood due to the events that took place the night before. As he saw one older Geltor struggle with a large stone block, he pushed him aside, picked up the block, and continued to work, "Don't show any weakness you fool! The guards swarm on such behavior!"  
The old half-giant shrugged, rubbing his now bruised arm, "I wish they would swarm on me, end this miserable existence. You can go ahead and act like you're helping me, but I'm done." He said, grabbing a small block and carrying it with him, as slow as he could.  
Moments later, one of the taskmasters saw the Geltor struggling with his load, "Hurry up you bag of bones! We've got to finish getting the stones for the west wall today!" The taskmaster continued talking until he ended his little speech with the crack of his whip on the worker's back. The old half-giant grinned, taking the stone he had, he threw it into the air, where it promptly landed in the taskmaster's skull.  
A nearby guard watched the display, with eyes widening in utter horror. It didn't last but a couple moments, though. As his training kicked in, he tightened his grip on his mace, and began charging towards the taskmaster's killer. Before he had taken more than a couple steps, Dravidan's massive hand hoisted him from the ground by his clothing, and crushed the windpipes of the man with his other hand. After the deed was done, Dravidan glared at the Geltor who had started the conflict. "Old man, do you not know what you have just done? Killing a human can result in your death, and my crime is like yours as well, look at the limp form in my hands! It is thanks to you, that he had to die, we could have resolved this differently!"  
Before he could finish, a tranquilizer dart met the neck of the old Geltor, and moments later, the same happened to him, and everything became dark.  
  
The half-giant awoke in a dark, familiar room. Suddenly, a memorable light flickered, and his captor became apparent. "Manset!" He growled, "What are you doing with me?" The mage nonchalantly looked around the room before replying, "Oh, the younger generations are so unthankful, I had Brevin spare your life, despite you killing the guard." Dravidan opened his eyes wide in surprise, "What of the old one? What happened to him?"  
Regula Manset rolled his eyes. "The other one had what was coming to him, he has been granted the freedom of death's cold touch. If I'm right, you can still probably see him from here," he replied, opening the window to show the courtyard.  
The Geltor suspiciously came to his feet, and looked out the window. What he found, was a large form hanging from the gallows, and full of enough arrows, that a pin cushion would be jealous. Dravidan closed his eyes to the brutal scene, "Why have you taken him? Why was not I killed along with the old one?"  
The Gem Knight laughed, "I thought you would have gotten it by now! I'm a prime influence for any of the important leaders in this entire nation. What I say, goes, for the most part. What I said, was that you were a fine scientific specimen, so basically, if you perform well, and do what I tell you, I won't just use you to dissect."  
The gladiator shuddered at the thought of being killed just for the use of some experiment for the mad wizard. So after moments of hard deliberation, he hesitantly agreed to do what the man said, else be turned into 'fried geltor,' as the mage had tried to put humorously.  
"First order of business," Manset said suddenly. "One of the terms that I could keep you alive was, that you would have to fight one last time in the arena against a foe of Lord Brevin's choosing.. The match is scheduled for tonight, so I don't want you to overexert yourself. So I'll let you get back resting after you clean this room, and fix the door that you had broken last time you had stormed out this room."  
The Geltor growled, not being able to stop from thinking about how many ways he could torture this man, if he was given the chance. 


	5. Chapter 5

After the Geltor had cleaned up what mess was made in Manset's room, he was told to rest in a small side room of the gem mage's quarters. There, he rested for not very long unsurprisingly, as the tranquilizers given to him previously had knocked him unconscious for nearly 4 hours, though he had not known it.  
When Dravidan had finally managed to get to sleep though, he was awakened by a knock at the side room door. He growled, not yet ready for the fight that he was told he would be participating in, but knowing that he had little choice. So, stretching his arms, he stood from the wooden floor that he had been dozing on and opened the door to find Regula Manset with all of his belongings in some sacks by the door, though his ample supply of gems still hung from his waist. "Come", he said to the half giant, "you must fight for your freedom this day." He finished, leading the Geltor from his quarters, and to the cellars that led to the arena.  
Upon reaching the wretched area, the mage departed from Dravidan, only telling him to not use his usual tactics in this battle, as they would be practically useless. He wasn't sure what the senile old man was talking about in the first place, but it was best to just let him finish with his rants, rather than conversing with him.  
Dravidan was equipped with an odd assortment of items this day; a Trern trident, the weapon commonly used by a water based race on the coast, a common Kolynian buckler, and light chain armor used most often by the smaller races that had gone all but extinct during the temporary alliance of the Humans with the Geltor. So there he was, decked in quite an odd armament indeed. Before he could think much more about his weapons, he was ushered to the gate, to await the beginning of his fight.  
Considering his fighting strategy, he came to the conclusion not to let his instincts take control of him as it had the last time, but before that thought could get too far in depth, the clinking of the chains pulling up the gate, brought him back to the present. As soon as the iron was above him, he leapt forward, poised to strike at whatever enemy was to come forth from the gate. To his surprise, the other casually walked into view, a creature about 10 feet tall, dark skin, and easily holding two heavy maces in it's massive hands. A Geltor, he knew at once, though this one was larger than most, and the act of wielding two maces at once with such obvious confidence suggested one thing. This was a mace kensai, no easy foe. They could wield both of their weapons ambi-dexterously through years of training, and with strength rivaled by few. These were the epitome of the true Geltor warrior, and few, if any could defeat them in single combat. This one, though, served as the personal guard of Lord Brevin, a traitor to his own race, Dravidan recalled.  
His jumbled thoughts prevented him from concentrating fully on his opponent though, as the kensai leaped forward with both maces ready to crush bone. To his credit, Dravidan managed to bring up his weapon, before it was easily knocked aside by one of the maces, as the other swung for chest. Again, he managed to block the blow, but this time with his buckler, which promptly dented in on his arm, preventing removal of it even. Not that he would, given the chance; it was one of the few things preventing his prompt and immediate death.  
As the onlookers watched the fight, they saw the still stunned Geltor trying to recover, as a blow came under and upwards, into his abdomen, and another came across sideways, fragmenting his skull, and killing him instantly. As the kensai prepared to mutilate the corpse further, with yet another powerful swing of his mace, he found his feet leave the ground. "Enough!" Called Regula Manset from the stands, openly clutching at a shard of levitational malachite. "Can you not tell that he is dead?! If you insist on ruining my specimen further, there will be a punishment!" The Geltor looked back to Lord Brevin, who promptly nodded, "Very well. Kanin, drop your weapons, and enter your gate. You shall be rewarded for your performance this night. Manset...do what you will with the corpse." He finished, looking disdainfully at the body of Dravidan, as he left the balcony to go about his own work. Regula nodded to himself, with a sly little smirk on his face, as he brought the smoky quartz from behind his back; the stone of illusion... 


	6. Chapter 6

The gentle rocking of the wagon along the stone road slowly brought the Geltor back to consciousness. As the world became less hazy, the half- giant became aware of his surroundings, the canvas above him, and the throbbing of his temples. Then, all of a sudden, a high-pitched whistling met his ears. A lively tune even... Getting up slowly, he moved the canvas covering aside at the front of the wagon. He drew in a sharp breath, it was a mere girl driving the wagon!  
Letting the canvas drop once again, he started to formulate a plan. He didn't have much; nothing other than what he had on him really. He would just have to hope that she was alone. So, moving aside the cloth opening, he lunged at the human. He was surprised to find himself on his back and trembling from an electrical burst seconds later. Looking around, he could tell that the girl wasn't in the area. "Gah! Where are you child of darkness!?" The Geltor yelled in dismay. "What devil blessed you with such power?"  
In response, he earned himself a kick on the jaw from seemingly a gust of wind. "Try to get at me will you? You big monster!" Came the childish remark. The taunts kept on coming, as a small form, maybe 5 feet tall slowly came into view. Suddenly, the girl seemed to notice the half- giant staring precisely in her direction. She began to clutch the smoky quartz in her hand all the tighter, but she remained visible. As her knuckles turned white, she finally realized what was wrong. "Master! He looks hungry...Stop with the sunstone!"  
A familiar form then came into the Geltor's view, "Ahh, quiet Queraska, you had it coming to you. Don't worry though, he won't bite, although I would reckon that he's fairly hungry. Isn't that right, Dravidan?" The old man asked.  
The half-giant scratched his head. "I...was in the arena, fighting. The other, he swung...all went black, but I...live?"  
Regula Manset nodded. "Indeed you do live, child. When he went for his killing swing, I activated this little rock here," he said, showing him a smoky quartz. "It makes illusions, so I made it look like you were dead after he hit you. Would you have preferred me not using the stone?" he inquired.  
The Geltor brought his hand down hard on the floor of the wagon, "Yes! A fair fight isn't won, or lost, by magic! Surely I could have taken him alone! The fool would have been no threat to the dance of my blade!"  
Regula shook his head, "No! You grow overconfident, creature. I saw how you fought, and it was pathetic! If it was not for me then you would be in the dirt like the rest of your miserable kin, but you wouldn't be working in the quarry! In fact, if I hadn't taken an interest in your signs of the Redaignian power, I would have let that fool Brevin kill you!" he yelled in disgust.  
At that point, though, Dravidan perked up. "What? Redaignian power? What do you speak of, old man?" The man shrugged, "You know, the powers of the gods exhibited through earthly things, such as yourself for instance. You know, like the Kolynian magics are channeled through stones? Some people, such as myself, are just better at accessing that power. The Redaignian magics, though, I believe are exhibited by one's primal instincts, similar to the affects of the tiger paw, but for not so tangibly." He finished, looking at Dravidan, who remained sitting there with a dumb stare. "Nevermind, never you mind. You'll understand later. As for now, I'd like you to say hello to my protégé, Queraska Sam'yil. She's training in the magic of Kolynia, but she's a roguish lass if ever I saw one."  
The Geltor grudgingly nodded a greeting to the girl before turning back to the older man. "Still, what do you want with me Manset? You have told me something about sciences, but that excuse has grown tired." He admitted.  
Manset muttered under his breath something before replying, "Fine, fine. All I ever wanted was a bodyguard for my protégé and myself. Who better than one of the formidable Geltor? Look in the wagon even, under the grain. There are two Geltor scimitars lying there. Take them, and use them well. Just stay within the wagon until we leave the populated lands. Now, I have to go scout ahead. "Queraska, keep a tight hold on the reigns, I'll be back."  
Dravidan grudgingly sat down in the wagon, and tried to shake off the feeling that he was still being lied to, as the wagon rolled on into the hills of the Keldon Range. 


	7. Chapter 7

They stopped a few hours later, Regula calling back to inform Dravidan that – since they were no longer in the populated regions – he could come out. The half giant did so hesitantly, but despite his anxiety, he appeared a truly formidable foe, for those who might cross his path. The two scimitars in an X across his back only added to his formidable appearance, mused the mage.  
As the mage mumbled to himself, the Geltor proudly walked ahead of the wagon, as if to look as the owner, or leader of the group. Shortly after, Queraska returned, a jovial look cast on her features. "Master Regula! Master Regula! I found the mine you were talking about! It's a mile farther up the road, and then half a off to the east. It's at that rock formation over there!", she said, pointing north-east of their position. Manset scowled, casting a wary glance towards Dravidan, before looking back towards his apprentice. "Is the iron rod in the place?", he inquired. She nodded lazily, "Of course, of course! Now let's get the wagon through to the mine! I want to find a new quartz! Imagine what I could do! I could make ugly over there look like a little girl for the rest of his life if I found one strong enough!", she said, nodding over at Dravidan. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind either, I'd even put little bows in his hair, and make him look real pretty. Of course, it's only an illusion, but it would be interesting to see a little girl using a sword longer than she is tall..." The Gem Knight scowled, "Oh, quite you daft girl, you're making my head hurt. Just, find the malachite, and err, no...you can use the lodestone, I'll use the malachite. Dravidan, get under the wagon canvas. Girl, sit up top with me, after you cover the horses' eyes, they're not going to like this." She nodded, and diligently covered the eyes of the horses with strips of cloth, before going back to the wagon to sit next to her mentor. "Okay, now, don't distract me when I get into the malachite, and only concentrate on the iron rod, when you activate the lodestone." he said, going into the levitation power of the striped green stone in his hand. Mere seconds later, the wagon and the horses seemed to get lighter, and ever so gently, they all left the security of the ground. Strenuously long seconds passed before the wagon was high enough for their intentions, and then, with the trees below the wagon, Queraska concentrated on the pitch- colored stone in her hand. As she locked onto the iron rod, the basic magnetic force of the lodestone was increased a hundred fold. The wagon slowly pulled itself across the air, towards the iron rod. In the back, Dravidan casually glanced out for under the canvas, before blanching in horror, and hastily going back under the canvas. Short moments later, the wagon stopped moving, and Regula slowly started to lower it back to the ground in a clearing adjacent to the mine. As the wheels of the wagon, and the hooves of the horses touched the ground, Dravidan jumped out. "What the hell was that, wizard? Were you trying to kill us?" Regula Manset laughed, "No, no! I just didn't want to be followed. It's hard to be tracked, when there aren't any tracks, right? In any case, I suppose I should tell you why we're here. The thing is, these gems that I have lose their power after a while. So, we're going to be here to...replenish them." He finished with another laugh, turning away for the mining preparations. 


	8. Chapter 8

Drydan Tentor slowly snuck into the camp, the half-giant having nodded off by the camp fire nearly an hour before. As he tiptoed his way across the dry dust of the mountains, he noted the three companions, and tried to discern which one was the leader. After a few moments, his eyes came to rest upon the old man. "Ahh, Manset!" He whispered to himself in glee, "It is a crime to use the mines without the council's approval...this could yield very dire results indeed." The man looked over the form of the Gem Knight and quickly found what he was looking for; the pouch hanging from Manset's hip. Wasting no time, he drew a slender stiletto dagger from his belt, and cut the strings attaching the pouch to the man's belt. Then, pocketing the hefty pouch, he silently withdrew from the ring around the fire. When he was out of viewing distance of the companions, he invoked the power of his ring, which was mounted with a powerful emerald. Rings of light suddenly surrounded him, and within mere seconds, they dispersed, leaving no sign of him ever having been there. As he traveled through the astral planes, he eventually found the gateway he was looking for. Slowing his lightning speed – at which things moved, when traveling the astral planes – Drydan ducked into the portal, and emerged from it on the opposite end, to find himself face to face with Terranill Lafrant. He put on a mask of confidence, and looked the Te'Vearn – the High Mage – straight in the eyes. "Te'Vearn, as you suspected, it was Manset who used the stones. He's at the southern Keldon Range mine right this moment. I saw him not but five minutes past dozing by a campfire, with a Geltor for a pet by all appearances. Not to mention, the Geltor carries two Geltor scimitars. We could send the lot of them to the dungeons for only that." He finished, looking for some hint of approval on his employer's face. The mage scowled, "What proof do you have that this is indeed Manset, and not some merchant looking to mine a few gems before winter sets in?" He said, with an intimidating edge to his voice. Drydan managed a genuine smile then, grabbing the pouch from one of his pockets, and showing it to the Te'Vearn. "I took it off of him while he was sleeping, he slept right through it, didn't even move. Wouldn't move forever if you had permitted me to dispose of him and his companions. Never have killed a Geltor y'know...Oh, that would be a fine fight indeed..." He said, trailing off to stare wistfully towards the ceiling. Terranill reached for the bag eagerly, while the man stared off into space. "Yes, yes, you have done well Drydan, you will soon be compensated. Go over to the treasury, and tell the guards that you are to have your pick of however many items you can walk away with. Your services as a Kolynian Brother of Justice have been terminated. I shall truly miss you, my dear assassin." He finished, analyzing the contents of the sack.  
Drydan happily pulled a small patch from his tabard, and threw it onto the floor, before exiting the room by an entrance guarded by two high- ranking officers. Risking a glance backwards, he saw Terranill nod to the two of them, before one ran off, taking a different hallway, and the other started following him. A couple moments later, he reached the treasury, to find the guard that had run off down the other hallway whispering something into the ears of the guards who were protecting the treasury. Upon seeing him approach, the guards halted their whispered conversations, and bowed respectfully towards the assassin, before unbolting the doors, and admitting him entry. When one of the guards was about to follow him into the room, he politely spoke up, "Excuse me captain..."  
"Drern, Captain Drern." The guard said, puffing out his chest proudly.  
"Well, Captain Drern..." Drydan replied, "I can handle picking out loot by myself, if there's one thing I'm good at, that's it. Now, if you don't mind, out, now." Before the guard could protest, the assassin forcefully shoved the man outside the door, before closing it, and setting the crossbar down.  
"Sir Drydan Tentor, open the door immediately, else I will be forced to take drastic measures against you!" The captain replied in a quavering voice.  
"Nonsense!" Drydan exclaimed, "I'll be out in just a moment! Just hold your bloody horses!" The assassin finished, pulling a circular piece of black silky cloth from his pocket, before surveying the treasure surrounding him. What met his eyes was incredible, a stock of treasure, both magical and conventional strewn across a room of gold. He may have been shocked, if he had not been expecting such treasures from the store of the government's most powerful branch – the magical. Not one to dally around, he hastily placed the black circular cloth on the ground, before going about the room, and finding the most valuable items. When he found an item of real value, he would throw it into the black cloth, which quickly absorbed it into the depths of the hole. It being a magical trinket from Vhareun – the god of shadow – it had the capability of turning its contents into shadow, until taken out. A truly efficient way to store things, the assassin mused to himself. When he had stored most of the items of real value into the hole, he took it, and folded it up, placing it in his pocket. After securing those valuables, he picked up a beautiful, and magically reinforced rapier, and an enchanted crossbow, that should reload itself automatically, if he hadn't missed his guess. Those weapons in hand, he unbarred the door, and opened it wide, letting the guards see that he had only taken the two weapons in his hands. "Come boys, I'm not a greedy man, this is all I need, now, if you'll kindly let me through, I have to be leaving." He said, with a kindly, but somewhat agitated grin on his face. The captain timidly drew his sword, "You will do no such thing Tentor. The Te'Vearn wishes to inform you, that, since you are no longer of use to him, you may not leave the keep alive." The guard said, drawing confidence while speaking for his powerful leader. "You may either give up your weapons, and be escorted to the dungeons, or be killed, here and now." He finished, barking out an order for the other three guards to surround Drydan. A deadly gleam suddenly entered the assassins eye, a gleam that caused the guards to all take a step back, "Very well, here are my weapons..." He said, holding them out to the guard captain. The captain visibly sighed with relief, along with the other three, all of which lowered their weapons. As the captain stepped forward to take the weapons from the assassin, he grabbed the crossbow from the man's hands. Before anyone could react, Drydan brought the sturdy rapier blade down on the hand holding the crossbow, severing it completely. As the other guards brought up their weapons to react, the assassin had already wrested the small hand crossbow from severed hand, and fired it into one of the guards' chest, which – to his delight promptly turned the blood a blackish color. "Poison!" he exalted, the weapon of which his god, Vhareun preferred above all. Before the guards could even comprehend what he had just meant, he had buried his rapier point in one's heart, and shot off the crossbow again into another. The only one left alive then, being the captain, Drydan bowed respectfully to the man, before running done the hall, and around the corner. The guard captain, despite his severed hand, ran after, but after turning the corner, all he saw before him, was emptiness...  
Drydan ran through the shadow plane, angered by the Gem Mage's betrayal. He would have taken the faster astral plane, but the gem mages would have been capable of following. So, running through the shadows, he looked for the portal to the southern Keldon Range. If he could make things harder for that bastard Terranill Lafrant, then it would make things all the sweeter, when he killed him... 


	9. Chapter 9

Manset gradually came awake, opening his eyes to stare groggily around him. At first he felt a bit odd, as if he was off-balance, but he hadn't had anything particularly potent to drink the night before. Those thoughts trailed off as he instinctively grabbed for the pouch at his waist. It was gone... He howled in rage, and stomped over to his apprentice, who was just then stirring. "Queraska!" He yelled aloud, "Where are my stones?!" The girl sat up, rubbing her eyes, "Master, what do you mean, 'Where are my stones', aren't they on your belt?" She inquired, before seeing herself that they were absent with a gasp of horror. "Master, where did your stones go?!" She exclaimed. Manset scowled, "You daft girl, that's what I just asked you! Bah, at least I still have this." He said, fingering a ruby button on his sleeve. Then, he lifted his eyes towards his apprentice questioningly, "What about the Geltor?" He inquired, casting a sidelong glance towards Dravidan. She shrugged, "Only one way to find out, right?" She asked, and though it was rhetorical, Manset nodded in reply. So the two silently slid across the dry dust, towards the massive form lying on the ground in a few bearskins. The form shifted slightly as they approached, but bolted straight upright when Queraska issued a couple of sharp kicks into his ribs. "Wake up you! Where are Master Manset's stones?! We know that you took them! There was nobody else around!" She yelled angrily.  
"That's not entirely accurate." Came a voice from the shadows. Immediately, the companions tensed, unable to see where the voice had come from. Dravidan even, jumped to his feet with scimitars in hand. "Put your weapons down. I have no wish to harm you, else your body would be littering the rocks by now." Hissed the voice.  
The companions hesitantly lowered their guard a little, as a seemingly lanky man, wearing loose fitting clothing, walked out from the air by all appearances. Manset couldn't help his perpetual scowl as he saw wisps of shadow following the man's movements. "He's a worshipper of Vhareun, watch your backs." He whispered to the other two under his breath.  
Both knew of the reputation that the priests of Vhareun had. They really were not so much priests as they were assassins. The best in the world really, mused Queraska, for she had some experience with them in her past, before she was turned to the forgiving light of her goddess, Kolynia. In fact, the stones she used most often, were those that resembled the natural powers of a worshipper of Vhareun.  
As the girl contemplated theology, the assassin bowed low, "Drydan Tentor at your service, great Gem Knight Manset." He said, with a flourish of his rapier. "Warrior extraordinaire, equaled only by perhaps a champion of Redaign." He finished, eyeing Dravidan with a look that yearned for bloodshed. Drydan took his eyes off of the Geltor, and hesitantly returned his gaze to Manset, "I have a bit of useful information regarding where your gems are, and who had the audacity to take them. It comes with a price of course, but I'm sure that one of your stature can afford it." He said with a smile.  
Manset shook his head, "Tell me now, I'll decide if it's worth anything. Then maybe you can keep your life."  
The assassin scowled, "How about we discuss this over tea?" He asked, fingering the handle of a crossbow concealed under his cloak.  
The Gem Knight shook his head once more, "Tell me now, or I'll stop wasting my time by letting the giant on you." He said, with a grating edge to his voice.  
Drydan subtly moved a fold of his cloak behind him, revealing the small hand crossbow that he was fingering. "I'll ask you again, how about it, that we discuss this over tea?" He asked, making sure that Manset got a clear view of the weapon.  
Catching the gesture, Manset hardly had a choice, "Very well noble warrior. Come, have tea with my companions and I. I'm sure that we are all eager to hear what wise words you have to lend." He finished, gesturing to the campfire, as he painfully forced the words from his mouth.  
The assassin smiled in triumph, "Wise choice mage." He said, walking into the camp, "I'm sure that this will well be worth your while, as well as mine... 


	10. Chapter 10

As the conversation between the assassin and the mage unfolded, Manset continued to tense up more and more. "You, you stole my gems, and gave them to that bastard Terranill?!" He asked incredulously at the end.  
Drydan laughed, "Just be glad that he tried to eliminate me, or I wouldn't have come to your aid, and you would still be oblivious to what had happened." he said in reply.  
The gem knight cast a glance towards Dravidan, "How did he get through? You, my body guard of all things, were suppose to be guarding. If you were, he wouldn't have stolen my damned gems!"  
"Not so," countered the assassin, interrupting Mansets fuming, "I would have made it by him, regardless of whether he was awake or not, which he wasn't." said the assassin, winking towards the half-giant with a sinister grin on his face.  
Manset turned back on Dravidan then, "So, you were asleep!" he said, as if he had just won a long-standing conflict against the half-giant.  
The Geltor quickly retorted in reply, "Fool mage, I am not your enemy, was it not the shadow walker who stole from you? Cease your petty accusations Manset, for it is your folly above all that he succeeded in taking your stones. Even I, am not so oblivious as to let people take things from my belt, whether I am asleep or not." He finished, daring any of them to try such a foolhardy thing as refute his basic, but sturdy logic.  
Indeed, it seemed like Manset was on the verge of doing just that, when the assassin put a cold hand on the mage's shoulder, "Calm yourself elder, you deserve his respect, and mine as well, which is why I am going to stay with your wagon for a short while. Someone as powerful, and wise as yourself, deserves a guard that won't nod off in the dead of night." Said the man, casting an accusatory glance at Dravidan, "but alas! The enemies are coming this moment, with more than a few of the most powerful mages in the world, none rivaling your legendary strength though, Manset." He finished.  
Manset nodded his head accordingly, "That's, that's a good idea. I could use a guard that will actually guard me. Rest with us this night, Drydan. Then, in the morn, we will leave the wagon behind, and go to the north. There I have accommodations, and a fair supply of stones. It's the only way though...Short of destroying the lot of those Kolynian mages."  
Drydan turned away wistfully, "I wouldn't mind the latter." He said, Manset paying no heed."  
So the company parted, gathering their gear for the long and arduous trek before them. Only the assassin didn't need to prepare, with all of his gear in the black circle in his pocket. With the onset of dusk, the company was fully prepared, waiting for the coming of dawn to set out. 


	11. Chapter 11

In the shadowy haze of night...although there should not have been a haze of that sorts within the mountainous region, the assassin, Drydan Tentor sat up against a spruce outside of the revealing glare of the camp's fire. He still hadn't come to a realistic reason for why he was staying with the odd assortment of a group. Something just seemed to ring familiar about that girl. He couldn't tell what though, she just seemed to understand him more than the others, better than the others. He knew it hardly made sense as he had never seen her before in his life, and he didn't think that she had seen him, but if that was true, then why did she stare at him like that? His thoughts shifted instantly as the girl made her way gracefully over towards him. She had the measured gait of someone who had been a veteran of combat for years, it appeared, yet, why was she a cleric of the goddess of the harvest then? More than that though, he wondered why she was walking up to him at all. Had she found something to use against him? Did she have allegiances to the guild of his god's rival; Sulenya? His fears disappeared a moment later, as she handed him a wooden bowl, filled to the top with a peculiar mushroom soup. Queraska shrugged almost apologetically as she watched the assassin sniff the contents distastefully, "Tis of ole Master Manset's making. He told me to give you some of the stuff, said that you'd like it. I myself have never seen a priest of Vhareun able to belly that. Didn't really think that anybody but good ole Manset himself could eat that concoction, not until I met that there giant," she said, pointing towards Dravidan, who was quickly downing a sixth bowl. Drydan nodded, as if in deep thought. The girl was about to walk away from the boring scene, when he spoke up. "What would you know of priests of Vhareun in any case, child?" The question caught her off guard, causing her face to pale a little, before she turned to face the man. "Why...who knows not of the priests of Vhareun? I'm just one of the more informed of those that know of them...after all, it's hard to forget what one has been part of." The girl made to muffle her mouth before the last thought come out, but it was too late, the assassin knew of her past. He jumped up from the soil, circling her swiftly, with an agile hand on the hilt of his new rapier. "You know..." he began, "there is only one true way to leave the order. By the looks of it, you haven't left yet. After all, you still draw breath." He stopped circling then, noting that despite the obvious threats, the girl failed to even tremble. He shook his head in amazement at the child's obvious courage, and clapped her on the shoulder. "Good, good. Last time that I was witness...err, making of such a threat, the man found himself standing in a yellow puddle at his feet. Of course, he didn't find himself face to face with me, when I was in such a merry mood." he finished with a sarcastic laugh. "Now tell me ..Queraska is it? What order of the shadow do you hail from? Surely those who were responsible for your upbringing did a fine job indeed. It would do me well to be able to congratulate such fine people." Queraska shrugged, almost dismissing the question altogether, but decided that the assassin might as well know. "I come from the order of the shadow viper. Reputedly home to the deadliest of the world's assassins, I am sad to say. They dwell up on the western coast by the granite cliffs, so that they might use the natural caves as some sort of hiding place and home...why?" "Just curious is all..." Drydan replied quickly, probably too quickly. He too, was of the order of the shadow viper... Home to the world's deadliest assassins, mostly in credit to him, and mostly, just assassin. He didn't tell the girl who had converted to the comparatively weak goddess of the harvest's side, but this brought up some interesting questions in his mind. If she was just at the age of 20, then he would have known her when she was 8...as he had not been to the place in 12 years. There had been only one child in the order at the time though...the one that he had left with guild's whore... 


End file.
